


What a Difference a Day Makes (temporary title)

by ronnieandcher



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Dinners, Fluff, Meet the Family, Multi, Work In Progress, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, lamcost (main ship)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronnieandcher/pseuds/ronnieandcher
Summary: modern lamcost fluff. here nate is about to meet stacker for the first time





	What a Difference a Day Makes (temporary title)

**Author's Note:**

> i just really wanted to write my ass off for lamcost bc i only watched the movie last week (i'm late to the party i know) and i definitely want more information on jake and mako bringing white boys home to their dad. title is subject to change and we'll see where this goes!

Jake rolled onto his right side and felt nothing but the creased cotton sheets. There was no warmth, no sign that Nate had been sleeping next to him. So Nate had been away from the bed for an hour, or so, possibly. Refusing to open his eyes, he patted the bed, but the sounds his hand was making didn’t get Nate’s attention. Where was he?

“Nate.” Jake called out into the dimly-lit room. No answer. No sounds coming from the bathroom. _“Nate,”_ he repeated, louder, and rubbed his eyes, sitting up.

Nate was sitting at the desk, his face illuminated by the computer screen. Jake rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the bed, walking barefoot to his boyfriend. He kissed his chestnut-colored hair, which still smelled like lavender shampoo. The first time Nate saw the bottle, he stared in disbelief because what kind of shampoo name was "Lavender Twilight Jasmine"? "They couldn't make up their mind between lavender, twilight and jasmine?" Nate had frowned, while Jake had put it in the cart anyway. Jake always smirked at the memory, because, of course, like a lot of things Jake introduced to Nate, it became one of Nate's favorites.

“Nate?” Jake said gently, drawing it out as sensually as he could. He crossed his arms over Nate’s chest and finally, in response, Nate lay his head against Jake’s left wrist.

“I’m sorry, I just want everything to—”

“Go well because your perfectionist ass obviously demands things should go as planned? Yeah, I know,” Jake finished for him, inhaling Nate’s hair again.

“Adorable perfectionist ass, you said, last Thursday,” Nate said sleepily.

Jake felt the scruff on Nate’s face against his wrist and grinned. “And you’re depriving me of your adorable perfectionist ass,” he conceded. “It’s three AM.”

“I slept for two hours already,” Nate tried to argue.

“You have work at nine, and you have to get up two hours earlier to get ready. I’m making banana pancakes, so you cannot miss that.”

“I have to—” Nate’s sentence was interrupted with a yawn. Dammit, he thought.

Jake looked over Nate’s head and smiled at the screen. His browser displayed a recipe for Louisiana ribs. “Get some rest.”

Nate yawned again. “I still feel I should make ribs. There’s this braised beef ribs recipe by Jeff—”

“Henderson? I know, you mentioned him yesterday, remember?”

“Oh, damn, did I?”

“I thought I was the stubborn one. Get some sleep, Nate, it’s just my dad.”

“Oh, it’s just Stacker Pentecost,” Nate said dryly. “ _The_ Stacker Pentecost. No problem.”

Jake sighed. His father, Stacker Pentecost, the five-star General and the best pilot the U.S. Air Force had ever seen, hosted dinner every two weeks for the family in a location of his choice. Sometimes it was in the Florida mansion, or the house on Amalfi Coast. Jake’s, and his sister, Mako’s favorite was the villa in Brač. But more often than not, their dad picked the penthouse in London, which had a rooftop sky observatory, which was probably what he loved best. And Nate, perfectionist, golden boy, beloved-by-all Nate, was going to meet the General for the first time, and he was going to try his best to earn the General’s approval. Jake knew it, and no matter how many times he already said Stacker’s approval didn’t matter, Jake knew Nate wasn’t going to be swayed out of trying really hard anyway.

And his first idea was to contribute a home-cooked meal to the dinner.

“Okay, fine, while you’re at it, maybe you should look at a recipe for arugula coconut salad and blueberry cinnamon banana bread,” Jake said, kissing Nate’s shoulders now.

Nate turned to him, worried. “You think so?”

“No, I think you should go to bed.”

“Jake, I want this to be perfect—”

Jake looked at Nate and grinned. “And you are.” Nate made an exasperated face. “I mean, it will be. Please. Just get some sleep. You can do more recipe hunting later, after work. We can pass up the film for tonight.” Nate was the film buff and Jake was the TV nerd, so they compromised by having Movie Mondays and Film Fridays while watching different shows in between.

“Oh, wow, just when I had _Fahrenheit 451_ planned. Babe, really?”

Jake shrugged casually. “Well, you can’t make up your mind on what ribs to make. Ribs that aren’t even necessary because you _do_ know that my dad will handle dinner. That’s the whole point: he’s literally hosting the dinner.”

“Oh, all right.” Nate got up and turned the screen off, letting Jake lead him to the bed. Jake knew Nate would most likely be making this recipe a big deal again later (there was no changing Nate’s mind when he was so focused on something), so he settled on ensuring Nate got some sleep for the time being. He fluffed up his pillows at a certain angle, and leaned back against them, while Nate looked at him questioningly, expecting cuddling.

“Oh, no, you’re going to sleep, and I’m going to make sure of that. C’mere,” Jake said, pulling Nate into his arms, making Nate lie on his chest as he sat up.

Nate yawned against Jake’s chest and entwined their fingers, gently drawing circles on Jake’s thumb with his own. “I just...really want to make a good impression.”

“Because he’s a five-star Air Force general.”

“Because he’s your dad.”

“Because he’s really hard to please.”

“Wow, thanks for reminding me. I wasn’t thinking about that at all. Because he’s terrifying. And he’s your dad.”

“He’ll like you. And if he doesn’t, I’ll set him straight,” Jake said, gently moving his hand up and down Nate’s arm. “Though he’s not actually straight,” he added as an afterthought.

“What?”

“I’ll tell you about that some other time. Get some sleep, Nate.”

They remained still like that for quite some time, and just when Jake felt his own eyelids droop, Nate said softly, “What are you gonna do if he doesn’t like me?”

“I’ll still like you.”

“You have no problem with that?”

“I have no problem whatsoever.”

* * *

 

Jake whispered softly but frantically to his phone, “Call Mako,” as he strained to hear the sounds of Nate in the shower. It went straight to voicemail, which was surprising, considering it was already 7:20 AM and Mako was usually an early riser, as in the six AM kind of early riser. Or 5:30, depending on her activities for the day.

“Mako, we have a problem.”


End file.
